


The Warmth of Gilbert Blythe

by Jacqualine



Series: Red Jacket Series [1]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Red and Black Coat, Twitter Prompt, Wearing His Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25691995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqualine/pseuds/Jacqualine
Summary: Anne has a bad day and somehow ends up in some of Gilbert's clothing.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Series: Red Jacket Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863106
Comments: 13
Kudos: 176





	The Warmth of Gilbert Blythe

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this twitter prompt, I can't remember who made it(sorry to them), it was for orayofsunshine, but I asked her if she minded if I also wrote something and she gave me the okay. 
> 
> I have two more ideas that I think can work as a series.

"Help with Delphine. They said"

"They boys need a woman's help."

"I blame Gilbert Blythe"

Anne had taken Dellie into her arms, Bash thanked her several times, while he shrugged on his coat and put on his hat and was out the door to join Gilbert out on the fence line. Deer had gotten in through the broken fence and eaten half the winter crop of beets they had been growing, they were so close to harvesting too, they were going to need that money with Gilbert planning to attend college or university in the fall, they had to repair is right away. 

Anne didn't mind helping with Delphine, she was usually a cheerful happy baby, and was almost no trouble, but it seemed like on this day, the baby was out of sorts, fussing and crying. Anne wondered if it was her teeth or was she sick? The thought occurred to Anne, that maybe she just missed her Mama, it Anne wondering if she had cried when her parents had died, was there anyone at all that held her and soothed her? 

Bash had barely been gone five minutes when the first disaster had struck, she was holding Delphine with one arm, while she poured her perfectly warmed milk into a bottle, Delphine in her left arm, facing away from Anne, her chubby baby legs dangling. The bottle was just about full when Delphine screamed and threw her head back...right into Anne's mouth, causing her lip to get cut on her own tooth.

"Ouch!" Anne cried out, nearly dropping Dellie and the pot of milk, catching them both quickly, but not fast enough, the pot knocked over the bottle and filled Anne's boots with milk.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dellie was screaming now, she was hungry and could see her bottle. Anne put her into her highchair, which was hard when Delphine decided to make her body as stiff as a board, refusing to let Anne bend her legs or waist.

"Dellie don't you want your bottle? I need to go make it and I can't if you won't sit in your chair." Anne tried to talk gently to the baby, calm voices always helped. Finally she got the baby in the seat, Anne immediately began the next pot of milk. Then she kicked off her boots and pulled off her wet stockings, dropping them in a wet puddle next to the boots. She tried to sing to Dellie while the milk warmed, that didn't work, the baby's face was twisted in anger and hunger, eyes wet with tears and Anne's heart ached for the little girl. "Soon Dellie, it's almost ready." She tried to maintain a calm and soothing tone, hoping it would help to calm down her down. Finally the bottle was ready and Dellie was greedily drinking, playing with the end of Anne's braid while she did so.

"As soon as you are finished eating, I am going to have to clean out my boots and stockings. Only this would happen to me Delphine." She said to the baby with a slight smile on her face, it was kind of funny when she thought about it. Delphine was fed, burped and changed, her little eyes, closing as she started to fall asleep, Anne put her in her crib, and left the door to the bedroom open so she could hear if the baby woke up. She washed her stockings and hung them by the fire to dry, she rinsed out her boots but couldn't get the milk smell out, she put them by the fire to dry. Then she went and found some woolen socks in the clean laundry basket, that hadn't been matched and put away yet. After she had the socks on she folded the laundry and then went to start making something for Bash and Gilbert to have for dinner. She had a pot of corn beef and cabbage cooking while she did some more tidying for them. 

The floors were swept and washed, the dusting done, she decided she would wash a load of laundry for the men, then she could hang it in the far side of the kitchen to dry, since it was still too cold to hang it up outside. She scrubbed, rinsed and wrung out the clothes, leaving them in the wash bin while she strung up the line. There were several nails already in the wall, the strings were in a drawer, she took one out and began to tie it to one of the nails, then she moved to go to the opposite side of the room and tie the other end when she felt some resistance, a gentle pulling, she moved away harder and heard the unmistakable sound of fabric ripping. Looking down she felt her heart drop. Marilla was going to kill her. She had a rip that went from her underarm to her waist, a small piece of her blouse hanging onto one of the nails in the wall. 

No, no, no, no...." She repeated. There was no way she was going to be able to fix that herself. She couldn't walk around with half her blouse ripped off. She grabbed her bright blue coat and slipped it on. It was hot but it was better than the alternative. She checked on the food, cooking slowly over a low heat, her stockings, still wet, and her boots, still wet and smelly. Then she finished attaching the line and hung the wet clothes. 

She went out onto the back porch to bring in a couple of more logs for the fire, it was early April but it was still cold outside, and she needed it warmer to get the clothes dry. Now that all the chores were out of the way she sat down to finish her schoolwork. She might be getting along with Gilbert more these days, but that didn't mean she didn't want to beat him in class. 

She was lost in the War of 1812, when the smell of smoke filled her nose, looking at the stove first, she saw the food was not burning, next she looked at the fire place and saw that her stockings were on fire, she must have built it too tall and a spark or an ember had escaped from the fireplace and caught one stocking, now both were blazing. She ran over to the sink and pumped the water handle to get some water in a large bowl and then moved to the fire, planning to just put the bowl under and lift it until the stockings were immersed in the water and the fire was out. Just as she got there, one stocking burnt in half and fell across her boots on the floor, the laces already catching fire. She poured a bit of water on them, effectively dousing the fire there, and she moved the bowl under the remaining sock and a half and put them out too. 

With shaky hands and a racing heart, she cleaned up the burnt mess, and poured the water out. That could have been really dangerous. Dellie was in the house, it could have burned down with her and the baby there. 

"It's alright Anne, no harm done, other than to your stockings and laces. There were new puddles in her boots and they were not going to dry by the time she would have to go home. She hoped Gilbert of Bash had something she could borrow. She knew there was a chest with Mary's things in it, but she refused to consider asking for that, it would probably cause a lot of hurt in Bash and Gilbert. She noticed that her coat was wet on the sleeves, and had a large dark stains from the soot stained water, Marilla was really going to murder her. How often had Marilla had warned her about the stove, now she wouldn't be allowed to use the fireplace either. 

She went back to the basket of folded clean laundry and pulled out a beige sweater, she knew it was Gilbert's, it was too small for him now but he still wore it occasionally, the sleeves too short and the sweater too tight across the shoulders, but on chilly winter days he would wear it under a larger sweater to double up on the warmth. She remember the first time she saw the sweater, his sick and dying father at the door, smiling at her despite his illness, a cap of snowflakes in Gilbert's hair. 

She took off her coat and pulled the sweater on over her head, the wool making the loose pieces of her hair stand up on end. She refused to take any pleasure from wearing his sweater, it was for modesty only, she needed to clean her jacket and with the rip in her blouse she needed to be covered, she only chose this sweater because it was the smallest she could see in the basket. 

She scrubbed at the stain, anger building, and the sole focus of her anger was Gilbert Blythe. On some level she knew it wasn't his fault but that didn't matter, she was angry, embarrassed and worried about the soon to be lecture she was going to receive from Marilla. And of course Gilbert Blythe would be there to witness it all. 

She was so busy scrubbing and grumbling she almost forgot about the corned beef and cabbage cooking on the stove. She removed it from the heat, and covered it, the men would be back soon, and it was time to wake up Dellie. Thankfully Delphine woke in a much better mood, she smiled and kicked her feet while Anne changed her diaper, and drank her bottle contently, staring up at Anne who was telling her a story about a flower who wanted to visit the clouds.

She was holding the baby in her arms and dancing around the kitchen when Bash and Gilbert came back for lunch. Bash laughed and asked to cut in, taking Dellie from her arms and beginning to dance her around the kitchen, her happy baby squeals filling the room. Gilbert just stood there and stared at Anne.

"You're wearing my sweater...and socks." He finally said.

"I had an morning filled with many challenges. I ripped my blouse, so I borrowed this. I hope you don't mind." She explained, feeling so embarrassed to have to explain any of the misfortunes that had plagued her. 

"It's too small for me, you can keep it." He told her, his eyes raking over the sweater, and then down to her legs, the woolen socks coming to mid calf, her short girlish dress just above her knees, was he staring at the skin showing? It wasn't that shocking, women often rolled down their stocking and hitched up their skirts at the beach.

"Might either of you have a spare pair of boots or shoes I could borrow? Mine somehow got filled with milk and are still drying out." She ignored Bash's low chuckle, he put Delphine in her highchair and said something about an old pair of Mary's. Anne and Gilbert stood in silence, him staring at her in his clothes and her avoiding looking at him at all. Bash came back with an old worn pair of boots, bigger than her feet but they would get her home. 

"Well I should get going." She said. Bash started to thank her for her assistance that day, while she took her coat and began putting it on.

"Anne, your coat, is wet." Gilbert said.

"Yes, another moment in a trying day." She really didn't want to give them more details.

"It's cold out there, you shouldn't wear a jacket that wet." Bash told her.

"I..." She began but Gilbert interrupted her.

"Take mine. I'm not going out again today." He was already shrugging off his own coat, the familiar red and black plaid jacket he wore every winter, and was passing it to her. She remember how it was both soft and scratchy, the day they learned Mary was dying, she had hugged him, had felt the warmth of his body through the coat, had laid her cheek against it, smelled the woodsmoke on it. She remembered how her heart ached that day, not just for Mary, or for her own loss of a wonderful woman who had been like an older sister, her heart had ached for the boy who had to tell someone he loved, they would die. She remembered how it felt not only natural to comfort him when he was in such pain, but how it felt so right to embrace him, as if their arms and bodies were two puzzle pieces that fit together.

"You'll need it tomorrow."

"I won't need it before church, I'll wear my Sunday jacket anyway. You can just return it to me at church tomorrow." He told her.

"If you're sure."

"He's playing white knight Anne, let him lay his cloak over the puddle." Bash told her, and she felt her resolve crumple, he was offering out of kindness. She took the jacket and slipped her arms inside, resisted the urge to burrow into the warmth left by his body, picked up her own blue coat and headed for the door. 

"Thank you both. See you tomorrow." She left the house and headed for home, the cold wind on her legs reminding her not to stop. Another strong breeze had her shivering and she was close enough to Green Gables that she ran the rest of the way. At least it was April and not January, she would have had to borrow a pair of trousers from one of them, imagine Marilla's face if Anne had come home in pants? Marilla would have a conniption. She pulled the collar of the jacket up around her face, burying her face into the warmth and scent of Gilbert Blythe.


End file.
